Mi Vida Loca - An Anthology Of Peeta's Life
by SFCBruce
Summary: I've used some of my flashback/dream sequences from my first fic, "A Tale of Two Victors," here as stand-alone one shots that I've tweaked a little, and added a few new ones as well. So this is basically twelve one shots covering moments of Peeta Mellark's life from age five up through events in The Hunger Games. I do not own The Hunger Games trilogy. Please review and enjoy!
1. MUSIC ASSEMBLY

**MUSIC ASSEMBLY**

My name is Peeta Mellark. I'm five years old. I live in District Twelve with my Poppa, mother, and my brothers Alec and Quinn. Alec is the oldest. He's nine. Quinn just turned eight and I turned five in May.

My Poppa runs the bakery for District Twelve. Alec and Quinn help him sometimes but Poppa says they are still too little to really be able to help. Mother is supposed to help but the only thing I've ever seen her do is yell.

District Twelve is kind of dirty and smelly. Black dust gets on everything here. It even turns the snow in winter time black. Poppa says it's called "coal dust," and it's from the mines where most of the people work. I don't know many kids whose fathers and mothers work in the mines. My best friend is named Delly. She's okay for a girl. She's funny and always makes me laugh. Her family runs the shoe shop in town. I have another friend named Madge. Her father is the Mayor of District Twelve. I'm not sure what that is but Poppa says it's an important job.

Today I had to get out of bed early. It's my first day of school! I'm so excited that I didn't sleep very well last night. Poppa helps me get ready for school. All the kids that live in District Twelve go to the same school. Finally we leave the house with my two brothers. I hold Poppa's hand as we walk but Alec and Quinn run ahead and I see them with some of their friends. I see Delly and Madge walking with their mothers to school and I wave at them. They smile and wave back.

When we get to the school Alec and Quinn go right in to their classrooms, but all of us five year olds have to wait before we can line up. While we are waiting I see Poppa suddenly look kind of sad.

"What's wrong, Poppa?" I ask.

Poppa looks down at me and smiles, then goes to one knee next to me. He points to a little girl that must be in my class too, but I don't know her. She's by herself and I wonder where her mother or father are.

"See that little girl?" Poppa asks. I nod. She's wearing a red plaid dress and has long dark hair in two braids. Her skin is darker than mine, kind of like a tan.

"I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner," Poppa explained. I look at Poppa in surprise. He was so kind and good. Why would anyone choose someone else over him?

"A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?" I ask. Poppa just laughed.

"Because when he sings," Poppa replied, "Even the birds stop to listen."

I smile when Poppa says this but I can tell that he's serious. I want to ask him more but the teacher comes out and shows us all how to line up. The little girl in the red plaid dress is a few kids ahead of me. Poppa gives me a quick hug and tells me he'll come back in the afternoon to get me. Now I'm a little scared, but the teacher is so nice...and besides, Delly and Madge are here too.

The morning passes quickly with the teacher explaining the rules. She reads us a story and we do other things too. The whole morning I sit next to Delly. She's the one I know best here. I see Madge sitting with the girl in the red plaid dress that Poppa pointed out to me.

After lunch, the teacher says it's time for music assembly. We leave our classroom and walk down a long hallway to the assembly room. In the hallway are picture after picture of kids on the wall.

"What are all these pictures?" I hear Delly ask our teacher.

"Those are pictures of all of District Twelve's Tributes for the Hunger Games," the teacher explained sadly, "Every Tribute from here went to this school. And every year we put up new pictures. This hallway is called Tribute's Hall."

"The Hunger Games?" Delly says, "Where kids fight each other on TV?"

"Yes, dear," the teacher says, "You'll learn more about it as you get older."

We reach the end of the hall and there's a large room. Another lady is standing in the front, smiling. Our teacher tells us to find a seat and sit down. I see the little girl with the braids and red plaid dress sitting in the front row with Madge. Madge is whispering excitedly to her and pointing at the piano. She had just started taking piano lessons.

The smiling lady stands in front of all of us. "Good afternoon, children. My name is Mrs. Borden. I'm the music teacher for the District Twelve school.

"Hello, Mrs. Borden," we all say, like we were taught.

"Now, I'm sure that you all have heard music at one time or another, and I see one of my piano students sitting here in the front row!" At this Madge turns around and smiles at everyone.

"But, it doesn't take a piano or other instrument to make music. Everyone can make music with just their voices, by singing. Now, who here knows the valley song?"

At this I see the little girl sitting with Madge shoot her hand straight up. Mrs. Borden smiles at her.

"What's your name, dear?" The music teacher asks.

"Katniss. Katniss Everdeen," the girl answers quietly.

"Would you like to sing the valley song for the class, Katniss?" Mrs. Borden says kindly.

I see her braids bob up and down as the girl - Katniss - nods her head.

"Come up here, then," Mrs. Borden says, pointing to a place next to the piano. Katniss walks forward slowly as the teacher helps her stand up on a step stool. I can see her face. She looks scared.

Mrs. Borden sits down behind the piano. "Go ahead and start, Katniss," she says gently.

I see Katniss standing still, clenching her hands on her red plaid dress. The other kids start to stir in their seats a little bit. I don't think she's gonna sing, then -

_Down in the valley, the valley so low_

_Hang your head over, hear the wind blow_

_Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow_

_Hang your head over, hear the wind blow_

She's so quiet at first and the other kids are so noisy it's hard to hear her, but her voice gets louder. I've never heard anything like it. The teacher starts playing her piano as Katniss sings -

_Roses love sunshine, violets love dew_

_Angels in Heaven know I love you_

_Know I love you, dear, know I love you_

_Angels in Heaven know I love you_

By this time the whole room is quiet, listening to Katniss singing and the piano playing -

_If you don't love me, love whom you please_

_Throw your arms 'round me, give my heart ease_

_Build me a castle, forty feet high_

_So I can see her, as she rides by_

I can see Katniss singing, her eyes closed as the words flow out of her mouth. And there's something else -

_As she rides by, dear, as she rides by_

_So I can see her as she rides by_

I can feel my heart pounding as she sings. I feel really funny listening to her beautiful voice. As she finishes the song, the whole room stays quiet. And I notice something else. The windows had been open and when we first came in the room I could hear Mockingjays outside singing. But not now. I look out the window and I can see Mockingjays sitting in the trees outside the room, silent. And in my five year old heart I know that I love this girl with the braids and red plaid dress.

Because when she sang, even the birds stopped to listen.


	2. APRIL SHOWERS

**APRIL SHOWERS**

Today has not been a good day. It's been raining all day, not uncommon for District Twelve for early spring, but that's not been fueling my funk. I'm worried about Katniss.

Ever since her father died during that horrible mine accident in January, she's been a different person. Never with too many friends to begin with, she's now turned her back on everyone. She once had an easy smile and could be heard singing almost every day. Since that awful day, though, I've not seen her smile once and her singing voice has been silenced.

I truly felt awful for her, and for the Hawthorne kids too...even though the oldest, Gale, had never been very nice to either of my brothers or to me. I'm closer to my father than I am to anyone else in the world, and to lose him suddenly, like what happened to the Everdeen and Hawthorne families...well, it's just unimaginable. I was happy to see that my mother relented and allowed my father to prepare food baskets for both families, as was the custom in our district when someone died. But that was over three months ago.

I remember seeing Katniss at a special ceremony they had in the Square a week or so after the accident. They even put up the special stage that they use for Reapings every year. Unlike Reapings, though, attendance at this ceremony wasn't mandatory...although I don't think anyone in District Twelve missed it. The Square was jam packed. The only one that wasn't there was Mrs. Everdeen, who had been taken ill at the news of her husbands death.

Katniss and Gale Hawthorne, as the oldest children of the two dead miners, represented their families at this ceremony. Mayor Undersee read a proclamation honoring the two men. In the proclamation he stated that both men disregarded their own safety to assist other miners in escaping, until they, too, were crushed as the mine finally caved in on them. Katniss and Gale were both given a special medal from the Capitol, honoring their fathers bravery, and were also given the equivalent of one months wages that their fathers would have made.

One months pay. After that, they were expected to find a way to support themselves.

Mrs. Hawthorne was already lining up clients, mostly Merchants, to do their laundry for them. She was a little older than my parents and Poppa always described her as a strong, resourceful woman. Mrs. Everdeen was another story. Whispers of her contracting what people called "The Sadness" were already circulating. People who had gone over to the Everdeen house spoke of Mrs. Everdeen as just sitting in a rocking chair all day long, staring at nothing, responding to nothing. I knew that her family owned the apothecary in town, but Poppa said that when she married a miner from the Seam her family had "disowned" her and she had not spoken to any of them in years. It wasn't likely that she could expect any help from them.

Katniss, like me, wasn't quite twelve years old, and her sister was only seven or eight. How could they take care of themselves if their mother couldn't work. I had overheard Poppa talking to mother one night and he mentioned something about the Community Home. I knew kids from the Home. Most, if not all, were orphans or from families that couldn't take care of them. While not purposely mistreated, they got no love from anyone while in the Home. Community Home kids almost always grew up to be sullen, angry adults.

I resolved that nothing like that would happen to Katniss Everdeen or her sister. I would figure something out to help them. After all, I had been in love with Katniss for the past six years, since that first day of school when Poppa pointed her out and later in music assembly, where she stood up on a stool in music assembly and sang the valley song in a voice too beautiful to belong to an ordinary five year old girl.

Katniss was able to hide the fact that her mother wasn't taking care of either her or her sister for the first month or so. They went to school in clean clothes, their hair brushed and braided, and they had food. The last few weeks, though, I saw a change. Katniss was becoming thinner by the day. I can clearly see her cheekbones in her face, bald spots on her head that she carefully tried to hide with her remaining hair, and her body becoming thinner by the day.

Katniss was slowly starving to death.

I knew that her father had been taking her outside the fence, teaching her about hunting, trapping, and fishing...but I guess he hadn't showed her enough. More than once I begged Poppa to let me help her...but Poppa, like my brothers and I, was afraid of my mother. And mother didn't like the Everdeens.

It would be up to me to act on my own, then. I just needed to figure out how.

I'm still trying to figure out how to help her when I hear a commotion at our back door. Mother is yelling at someone.

"Get out of here, you filthy Seam brat! And take these useless rags with you!" I see mother throwing a bundle of cloth at someone standing outside in the rain. I feel bad for whoever it is. Mother is the meanest person I know. Mother slams the door and turns around.

"Get back to work, you lazy boy!" She shouts as she swings her hand at me. She didn't connect. One thing I had learned was to be quick. I scampered back into the bakery and checked the ovens where we had several loaves of bread baking. The rain was coming down harder.

I hear another commotion shortly afterwards. Mother, again screaming at someone, this time to quit pawing through our garbage cans. I heard the words "Dirty Seam Trash" and "Peacekeepers" as mother once again slammed the door. I glance out of the window as I worked and I could see a small figure slinking tiredly across the street, shoulders slumped forward, head down, soaked with rain, clutching a small bundle of cloth. I could tell it was a girl. I watched the girl get as far as the apple tree across from the bakery, then slump, defeated, against the trunk. When she sank to the ground under the tree I could see her face clearly for the first time.

Katniss.

I felt my breath catch in my throat. Katniss, trying to sell something to my mother for food money...or maybe just to trade for food...for bread perhaps...she was starving! And somehow I knew, I JUST KNEW, that unless something was done, she would die, that night, under that tree.

I felt tears springing to my eyes at the thought. No! I'm not letting that happen. A desperate plan formed in my mind as I stepped to the ovens, opened them, and deliberately dislodged two loaves so the ends fell directly into the fire. The bread, almost done by then, began to burn and smoke almost instantly. Mother smelled the burning bread and was in the kitchen in an instant.

She jerked the oven door open, put oven mitts on, and reached in to pull the two scorched loaves out. She threw them on the floor as I stammered out a pretend apology. Without even removing the mitts mother backhanded me across my mouth, then cuffed me on the side of the head as I fell to the floor.

"Stupid, STUPID BOY!" She screamed. "Two...TWO loaves ruined! You!" She pointed at me. "Feed those to the pigs. We sure can't sell them now! Then get back in here!"

I bent over and picked up the two hot loaves in my hands. The bread burned my skin but I ignored the pain. I was careful not to let mother see my smile as I carried the bread to the door.

The hard rain pummeled my face as I carried the bread outside. I glanced over at the tree to see Katniss still sitting there. I pretend to tear a piece of bread off to throw to the pigs as I watched her. Look this way, I say to her silently. Look this way, look this way...

Yes! I see her head slowly turn in my direction and her gray eyes gleam dully in the twilight. A quick glance to confirm she's watching, another glance over my shoulder to make sure mother wasn't watching, and quickly I flip both loaves towards Katniss. I see them bounce against the wet street once then come to a rest. Without waiting to see if Katniss saw the bread, I turn quickly and go back inside. As soon as I step inside the bakery mother cuffs m against the side of my head again, knocking me to the floor. As I raise up on my hands and knees I see her standing over me with a bread pin in her hand. I don't even have time to raise my hands up to protect myself before the pin crashes down against my shoulders. Again and again the pin rises and falls. I taste blood in my mouth and I know that tomorrow will be another long sleeve day.

After what seems like forever, mother finally gets tired of beating me. I pick myself up painfully from the bakery floor and glance out the window once before going back to work. Katniss and the bread are both gone.

The rest of that evening, mother must have wondered why I had a smile on my bruised and battered face.


	3. SCHOOL DAY

**SCHOOL DAY**

I wake up to the sound of my mothers voice screeching at my brothers and I to get out of bed. At eleven, I am the youngest of three. The worn springs on my narrow bed creak loudly as I slowly, painfully, start to move.

My brothers, unhampered by such restrictions as a black eye, split lip, bruised neck and sore back, are already leaping out of bed. They know from painful experience not to incur mothers wrath and be too slow to get downstairs. I slowly and carefully turn my head to the small, dirty window in our bedroom. It's still pitch black outside but it appears that the rain stopped sometime during the night.

I slowly swing my legs out from the bed and gather myself to stand up. "Better move faster than that," Alec advises. At fifteen, he's the oldest and my mothers favorite. I see his eyes narrow just a bit as he sees the evidence on my face, neck and arms of mothers latest displeasure with me. Even in the dim light of the single oil lamp he can see the bruises, dark purple in the middle, fading to ugly shades of green and yellow at the edges. He exchanges a knowing look with Quinn, my fourteen year old number two brother.

"Go ahead and use the bathroom first, Peeta," Quinn offers in a rare display of generosity. Alec is already through with the bathroom and is quickly dressing. I nod my thanks and, grunting a little at the discomfort any motion causes, pull myself up and stagger into the bathroom.

Another oil lamp casts its dim light as I use the toilet. I examine the bowl and am relieved to see that I didn't pass any blood. I find my toothbrush and squeeze a tiny drop of paste onto the bristles. Carefully, so as not to re-open my split lip, I brush my teeth. At least none of them are broken or loose, I think ruefully. A quick brushing of my hair and I relinquish the bathroom to Quinn.

Moving around has loosened my aching limbs a bit so I manage to dress quickly and head downstairs...not to breakfast, but to work in the bakery, helping prepare for the morning rush. Alec and Poppa are already at work. "Good morning, son," Poppa says gently. "Morning, Poppa," I answer as I put on my apron. I start to pull balls of dough out of the icebox and onto the counter. Quinn now joins us as he and Alec begin to knead the dough and parcel it out into the various pans. Poppa moves easily through the bakery as the familiar smells start to fill the room. Once, when I was standing in good light, Poppa gently cupped my face in his big hand and carefully examined me. He says nothing but his mouth is set in a tight line. He only gets that way when he's angry.

I hear mothers voice barking at us as we work. As usual, no one moves fast enough for her and she continues to harangue the four of us while she stands in the doorway, sipping her morning tea.

Finally, as the first batches are rising in the oven, my father tells my brothers and I in a low voice to please clean up the bakery and then come to breakfast. As he brushes past mother I see him take her by the arm and slam the door behind them.

My brothers and I work in silence as we catch snatches of our parents angry "conversation."

"- deliberately burned two perfectly good loaves, and for what? So he can GIVE them away to that skinny little -"

"- be amazed if you didn't really hurt him this time -"

"- nothing but a stupid boy, he will never amount -"

"- see his NECK is bruised, Abigail! What did you hit him with -"

"- a weak man, Liam! You always were! Someone has to be firm -"

"- swear, Abby, if you EVER beat any of the boys like that again, I'll -"

My brothers and I quietly finish cleaning up, and finally my father opens the door. He looks drained.

"Boys...come on to breakfast now," he says quietly.

"Yes, Poppa," we say almost in unison, as we quietly file into the house. We eat in silence, with little sound and no conversation. Breakfast, as usual, is stale breads that didn't sell. My mother sits at one end of the table with Poppa at the other end. They exchange a few angry glances at each other but during the entire meal no one says a word. After breakfast my brothers and I clean up the table and grab our book bags and lunches for school. Mother, as usual, disappears but Poppa stands at the door and gives each of us a hug and kisses the top of our head as we pass him. He is especially gentle with me.

We walk towards school in silence for a bit, then Alec and Quinn break off when they see their friends. They shoot me quick, apologetic looks then continue on to school, noisily engaging with their friends. The sun is out and there isn't a cloud in the sky this morning.

I don't walk alone for long, as my best friend Delly Cartwright joins me, followed quickly by the Mayor's daughter, Madge Undersee. They both gasp as they see my face in good light for the first time.

"Oh my gosh, Peeta! What happened?" Delly asks in horror. I can feel myself blushing.

"I...fell down last night," I explain lamely.

"Oh?" Madge says skeptically, "How many times?"

"Peeta, did your mom -" Delly begins, but I abruptly cut her off. "Just drop it, Delly!" I snap.

Delly falls silent and I catch her looking at me reproachfully, so I give her a small smile...even though it hurt.

Suddenly, as we near the school, I feel my breath catch in my throat. Katniss and her sister are walking from the direction of the Seam towards school.

Delly gently teases me. "Is today gonna be the day you actually talk to her, Peeta?" I blush furiously and shoot my friend a look. Madge looks on sympathetically.

"I hope she starts doing better soon," Madge says suddenly, "Her and her sister, I mean."

"She will," I say firmly. Delly laughs. "And you know this how, oh wise one?"

"I ga...I mean, I just know," I finish weakly.

"You what, Peeta?" Delly prods. I set my mouth in a firm line. Realization creeps over Delly's face. I never could keep anything from her.

"Peeta? Are all those bruises and Katniss connected somehow?" I shrug and say nothing.

"If that's the case, you really should talk to her, Peeta," Madge says gently.

"I...I...can't," I say quietly, then, "But maybe today...she will talk to me."

They both look sadly at me and we finish our walk to school in silence. Together we enter our schoolroom. Katniss is already there in her usual seat. One row to my left and two desks ahead. She does look better, I tell myself. As I sit she looks behind her and for a split second she meets my eye, then she turns away as I feel myself blushing.

Class starts and for the next two hours we are all busy with school work. I get more than a few curious looks from students and teacher alike, but no one says anything. At break, we all head outside. I avoid my friends...if Katniss wants to talk to me, or thank me, I don't want her to think she's interrupting. But, she stays on the other side of the yard, by herself, as usual. The bell calls us back into class before I can muster my courage to talk to her.

At lunch I again sit by myself, eating a tasteless, stale bread jelly sandwich. Delly and Madge keep shooting me looks. I shrug apologetically. They both nod sadly and turn back to their lunch. Katniss, as usual, sits as far as possible for everyone. Even at this distance I can see the scorch marks on the bread she's eating, along with some cheese. Still, she says nothing, and doesn't even glance in my direction.

The afternoon session passes quickly, then the final bell of the day rings. As I gather my books I see Katniss is already heading out the door, striding purposefully to meet her sister for the walk home.

I hastily gather up my books and leave the school room. I see Katniss stop suddenly in the school yard, then bend over and pick something up. She straightens up and briefly I see her eyes flicker over at me, then she turns and begins walking to meet her sister. Quickly I cross the yard and start my familiar route home. I don't wait for Delly, Madge, or my brothers. I want to be available in case Katniss wants to talk to me.

I catch one glimpse of Katniss walking with her little sister. Katniss is showing something to her and seems to be excited about something. I'm close enough to see that Katniss is showing her sister a dandelion. A dandelion? Why the excitement over a weed? Soon she and her sister turn toward the Seam and I continue to walk home in solitude.

She'll thank me tomorrow, I say to myself.


	4. REAPING DAY

**REAPING DAY**

I nervously examine my image in the small bathroom mirror. My parents, along with Alec and Quinn, are already downstairs. This is my fifth Reaping. It's Quinns last.

I run my brush through my hair one last time, then put out the oil lamp and walk slowly downstairs. The square is almost right outside our front door, so it will take no time to get there.

My mother gives me an impatient look and quickly inspects Quinn and I. We are all dressed in our Reaping best. It's not just a matter of vanity...everyone is required to attend Reaping dressed in their finest clothes. As we check in we will be inspected by Peacekeepers. If we don't pass inspection our family will face a heavy fine.

Mother can't find any fault so in silence we file out and walk the short distance to the square. At check in we say goodbye to our families. In turn, Quinn and I are hugged by our oldest brother Alec, who, at 20, is in his second year as a spectator at the Reaping, then our mother, who gives each of us a perfunctory squeeze, and finally our father. He hugs first Quinn, murmuring something to him, then moves on to me. He gathers me in his arms and gently whispers, "Good luck, Peeta. I love you."

"I love you, Poppa," I whisper back. Poppa. The only time I call him that now is on Reaping Day. By some unspoken arrangement my brothers and I all started calling him Dad when we were about 14 or so. Except for today.

Quinn and I queue up behind a table with a sign behind it marking it as the table for all tribute candidates whose last name begins with the letters M through P. Even though it's still early the square is filling up quickly. I glance over at the Justice Building where a temporary stage has been erected. A few people are milling around on the stage. Members of the Capitol Liaison staff, Head Peacekeeper Cray, Mayor Undersee, and Effie Trinket, the Capitol's District Twelve escort. She is in stark contrast to the rest of the people on the stage with her pink hair and bright green suit. To the rear of the stage are three chairs. A microphone on a stand is placed exactly in the front center, with a large glass bowl on either side. I glance at the Boy's bowl. My name will be in there 5 times.

I can't help but glance down to the second table where E through H sign up. There's no sign of Katniss yet. Quinn sees this and elbows me playfully. "Are you actually gonna talk to her afterwards this year?" He asks teasingly. I blush and shrug my shoulders.

Quickly we move to the front of the line. A Peacekeeper pricks my finger and squeezes a small drop of blood. She dips a probe on a small handheld scanner into the drop, and watches it intently. I hear it beep quietly, then she indicates the page in front of her. I press my bloodied finger onto a square next to my name. I'm now officially checked in.

Quinn and I exchange a quick hug and we both murmur "Good luck," to each other as we take our place. Quinn is close to the front with the eighteens. I'm further back with the sixteens. Boys on one side, girls on the other. There's not much talking. Everyone is lost in their own thoughts.

There she is! Lining up to check in, wearing a nice blue dress, her hair in its signature braid. Next to her is a small blonde girl with twin braids running down her back. She keeps nervously tucking her white blouse into the back of her skirt. Her sister...Primrose, I remember. Watching them, my resolve stiffens. This year I talk to her. Right after the -

"Gonna actually say something to her this year, Mellark?" I hear a familiar voice and turn, my blush coming back as I do. Blake Carrow, a classmate and member of the wrestling team...and a friend. He lives in the Seam and is an only child. Behind him Dawson Bannon snickers at Blakes remark. I glower at them both but still greet them.

"Hey, Blake...Daws," and then quieter so only Blake can hear, "Yeah. I hope anyway..."

He chuckles. "As I recall, this is the fifth Reaping you've said that!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but this year's gonna be different. I -"

Blake shushes me quickly as the Mayor begins to talk. It's the same old speech every year, and I half listen as he talks. I try to keep an eye on Katniss. The Mayor finishes up by listing our districts previous Victors. Only one, Haymitch Abernathy, is still alive. He chooses this moment to stagger onto the stage and plops down in the chair next to Effie Trinket. He drunkenly tries to hug her and there's a brief ripple of laughter as she pushes him away. The Mayor quickly introduces Effie Trinket. I'm still just half listening until she makes the announcement.

"Ladies first!" She says enthusiastically, then steps to the Girl's bowl and dips her hand in. I squeeze my eyes shut and chant to myself, not her, not her, not her, not her, not -

"Primrose Everdeen!" Oh, no, not her either! I gasp as does everyone else in the crowd. Katniss's sister, all of twelve years old, her first Reaping, one slip in the bowl, was Reaped. My eyes lock on Katniss and the look of utter shock on her face. Out of the corner of my eye I can see her sister slowly making her way up to the stage. Katniss seems paralyzed. As Primrose walks I see the back of her blouse come untucked from the back of her skirt...and then I see Katniss chasing after her. The crowd of girls around her makes way before her as she runs after her sister. No, I say to myself, No Katniss, stay there, Katniss, don't -

"Prim!" I hear Katniss cry out, then again, "Prim!" Just before she reaches the steps Katniss catches up to Primrose and sweeps her behind her with one arm. No, I say to myself again, then -

"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

A half gasp, half moan escapes my lips as I feel myself swaying. I'm dimly aware of hands grabbing my arms. There's a roaring in my ears as I digest what just happened.

Katniss is going to the Hunger Games.

Suddenly my chest feels tight as I fight for breath. I half hear someone talking but pay no attention. Someone's patting my shoulder. I turn my head and see Blake eyeing me sympathetically. Everyone around me is kissing their middle three fingers of their left hand and raising the hand into the air. I recognize the old symbol of respect, normally seen at a funeral, now given to Katniss. Everyone here has already written her off as dead, although I mechanically give her the salute also.

Suddenly I see Haymitch Abernathy lurch out of his chair and stagger across the stage to Katniss. He throws his arm around her shoulders as Katniss stands there looking very uncomfortable.

"Look at her!" Haymitch shouts. "Look at this one! I like her!" It appears that he's holding on to Katniss more for support than anything else.

Haymitch peers drunkenly at the crowd. "Lots of..." he begins but falters as his muddled brain searches for what he has to say, then, "Spunk! More than you!" He suddenly releases Katniss and staggers to the front of the stage.

"More than you!" He says again, this time pointing directly at a camera. There's an audible gasp that I can hear around me as Haymitch performs the most openly rebellious act I've ever seen. He opens his mouth again, but before anything else comes out, he suddenly plummets off the stage to land in an unconscious heap.

Another gasp from the crowd and some nervous laughter this time. I never take my eyes off of Katniss. I see her hand go to her mouth for just a second and her brow furrow, again for just a second. That's the only emotion that she allows.

Haymitch is picked up and carried away on a stretcher as I hear Effie Trinket start to talk again and I automatically tune her out. I have other things on my mind right now.

I need to see her, I think desperately. After the Reaping, during the Visiting Hour, yes, I'll go see her...it may be my last, my only, chance to -

"Peeta Mellark!"

What? Who's calling my name? I suddenly realize that everyone around me has given way and I'm standing in my own little circle. I see Blake's face, his mouth set in a grim line, and he grips my shoulder once then lets go. The realization hit me just then.

I've been Reaped. I'm going to the Hunger Games, too. As I begin that oh, so long, walk to the stage, one thought keeps going through my mind.

I'll have plenty of time to talk to her now.


	5. TRIBUTE TRAIN

**TRIBUTE TRAIN**

Katniss and I glance at each other briefly, then back down at our Mentor struggling to rise out of the puddle of his vomit that he was laying in. We wordlessly each take an arm and help Haymitch to his feet.

"I tripped?" Haymitch asks, then, "Smells bad." He wipes his hand across his nose, smearing his vomit all over his face. I feel my stomach lurch at the sight...and smell...but I have to control the urge. The seed of an idea has been planted in my head.

"Let's get you back to your room," I finally say. "Clean you up a bit."

Together we manage to guide Haymitch back to his compartment, then unceremoniously dump him in the bathtub fully clothed. I turn the shower on him, then turn back to Katniss.

"It's okay," I say to her, "I'll take it from here."

The look of gratitude that Katniss gives me is almost worth dealing with my puke covered Mentor. Still, she hesitates, but finally says, "All right. I can send one of the Capitol people to help you."

"No. I don't want them," I quickly say. What I need to do I have to have privacy to do. Who knows when I'll get a chance like this again?

Katniss just nods, and, without another word, leaves the room. As the door shuts behind her I start to work on Haymitch.

Haymitch mumbles a bit but doesn't resist as I strip him out of his wet clothes. My own shirt is soaked through, but I keep it up until his wet, soiled clothes are laying in a heap next to the bathtub.

I quickly scrub Haymitch, then towel him off and rummage around until I find a fresh shirt and pants for him to wear. By this time the combination of him throwing up most of what he drank, plus the shower, has had a sobering effect on him. Grumbling, he takes over drying himself as I go back into his room and pick up the phone. An attendant immediately answers and I order a pot of coffee and a sandwich tray to be delivered.

I take off my own shirt and work at drying myself off when Haymitch comes out of the bathroom, dressed in the clothes I left for him. He looks at me uncomprehendingly then I see recognition dawn in his eyes.

"You're my latest tribute," he says simply.

I nod, and extend my hand. "Yes. Peeta Mellark," I introduce myself.

Haymitch takes my hand briefly, then says, "Liam and Abby's kid?"

I nod. "I'm the youngest."

"Where's Spunky?" He asks suddenly. I look at him in confusion until I remember what he said about Katniss at the Reaping...how she had lots of spunk.

"You mean Katniss?" I ask. He shrugs. "Yeah, whatever. The girl that volunteered for her sister. Say, you didn't volunteer too, did you?" He asks suddenly.

I shake my head. "Good," he grunts, "I couldn't handle TWO hero's on this trip."

Just then the attendant knocks with the coffee and sandwich tray. Haymitch looks annoyed at first but brightens when he sees what I ordered. "You did this?" He asks.

"Yes...thought you could use it," I explain.

Haymitch pours some coffee and offers to pour a cup for me. I decline. He shrugs his shoulders, picks out a sandwich, then sits and looks at me.

"So...what's her last name? Spunky?" He asks as he begins to eat.

Irritated, I say, "It's Katniss. Katniss Everdeen."

Haymitch lets out a long sigh. "Drew and Una's girl," he says quietly, then, "I thought having to mentor my friends was bad. Mentoring their kids is even worse."

I sit quietly, then I finally say, "Mr. Abernathy, I have a -"

"Stop right there. It's Haymitch...just Haymitch," he says firmly.

"Okay...Haymitch. Anyway, I have a favor to ask," I begin.

He chuckles. "Want a little jump on the competition? Some one-on-one advice?"

I shake my head. "No. But before I tell you I need to know if you'll remember this in the morning...otherwise it's a waste of my time."

Haymitch nods slowly. "You sound serious, boy. Okay, it's your dime...start talking."

"Excuse me?" I say. "Dime?"

He laughs briefly. "Sorry, kid...just a very old expression. It means I'm all ears."

"Okay." I take a deep breath. "The bottom line is...Katniss has to win."

Haymitch sputters on his coffee, choking as it went down the wrong way. I get up and pound his back until he gets control of himself again.

He regards me for a moment. "Kid, I coulda sworn you just said you want Spunky to win?"

I nod. "I just don't want it. She NEEDS to win. Her sister and mother depend on her."

"Twenty three years I've done this and thought I've seen it all," he mutters, then, "Okay, assuming of course that you're sane -"

"I am," I say quickly.

"- That's debatable...but I have to ask...why? Do you have a death wish?"

"No," I say slowly, then, "I'm in love with her."

Haymitch looks at me for several seconds, takes a bite of his sandwich, chews, swallows, then takes a drink of his coffee. He deliberately sets everything down and leans forward.

"Don't take this personally, kid," he begins, "But I think you're bat-shit crazy."

"Look at me," I say calmly, "Do I look crazy to you?"

He shakes his head slowly. "No...that's the scary part. Okay, so you love her...although I can't for the life of me understand why...my next question is...does she know how you feel?"

I shake my head. "No. Some of my friends and family know, even though I've never said anything to any one. You are actually the first person I've ever told."

"I'm honored," Haymitch says sarcastically, "Okay, you have my attention. Do you have a plan?"

"Not yet...other than I plan to do whatever it takes to protect her."

"Not just a lunatic," Haymitch mutters, "but a noble lunatic at that."

"I'm serious, Haymitch." I say.

"I can tell, kid," he says, "Okay, I'm not sure what we are gonna do. This is totally new for me...or any other Mentor, I would bet. But for now...you and I never talked. Got it?"

I nod. "I don't want her to know about this talk, either," I say.

"Good," he says, "Tomorrow, as far as she knows, you poured me into bed. Just make sure, whatever I do or say, you have to follow my lead. You'll know what to do."

I nod. Haymitch looks thoughtful for a moment, then says gently, "You know, Twelve doesn't do very well in the Games...no matter what I do, I may not be able to help her much...or you."

"You don't know Katniss," I say firmly, "She's strong. And there is no one in Panem that's better with a bow than her."

Haymitch arches his eyebrows at that revelation. "Really? How did she - no, never mind...I don't wanna know. I'll take your word for it. Okay, kid, it's late, and I need drink after all this...don't worry, I won't forget this," he adds.

I turn to go. As I turn the knob I hear him say, "Peeta. What's the real reason why you want to die to make sure she wins?"

"Without her, I have nothing," I say quietly.

He looks at me and says, "Fair enough. I'll do my best."

"She's gonna win, Haymitch. She's gonna live." With that, I leave.


	6. TRAINING DAY

**TRAINING DAY**

Once again I struggle to climb the cargo net dangling from the ceiling. My strength doesn't help me here. I try to remember what the instructor said...hands on the vertical strands, feet on the horizontal strands, but the higher I climb, the more the net swings and sways. I find myself slipping again and struggle to hold on. Rue went up this as naturally as walking across the room! Likewise, Katniss had no problem scaling the net; in fact, she was almost as fast as Rue was. I feel my feet slipping once again and frantically dig for a foothold. No use. The net twists under my weight and I find myself hanging with my back to the floor for a split second before tumbling to the mat 10 feet below.

The impact is jarring and I lay there for a moment, dazed by the fall. Dimly I hear laughing and struggle to focus my eyes on the source. Across the room I see Cato, Clove, Glimmer and Marvel laughing uproariously at my embarrassment. I feel myself flushing and sincerely wish that I could just melt into the floor.

"Throw that metal thing over there," I hear a low voice next to me say. I turn my head and see Katniss kneeling next to me. She's pointing towards a rack of metal weights of various shapes and sizes. Her words sink in and I shake my head. "What? No...Haymitch said we're not supposed to show our strength..." I answer.

Katniss looks me in the eye and says forcefully, "I don't care what Haymitch said! Those guys are looking at you like you're weak. Throw it!"

Katniss stands up and walks away. I glance over at the Careers all watching me and smirking. I can only guess what they're thinking.

I get to my feet and walk painfully over to the rack where large weighted balls are kept. I can't help but look over at the Careers as I approach the weight.

I grasp the handle and pick it up with one hand. It's the heaviest weight in the rack and I see the Careers looking on with interest as I walk forward a few steps. I have my target picked out.

I grasp the weight with both hands and swing it back. I can see the Careers all with quizzical smiles. I know what they're thinking. What's he think he's gonna do with that? Throw it?

I cock my arm back and step into the throw. My arm whips around overhand as my momentum carries me towards the target. The weight flies out of my hand and sails directly towards the rack of spears across the room. It hits dead center knocking spears off and pushing the rack itself back several feet.

I stand for a moment to catch my breath and watch as the Careers slowly walk away from my demonstration. None of them are smiling now.


	7. PRIVATE SESSION

**7 - PRIVATE SESSION**

Katniss and I sit, tense, waiting for our turn with the Gamemakers. Today is the day when each of us gets their Private Session so the Gamemakers can look us over one last time before assigning us our Training Score.

The sessions are done in district order, so Katniss and I have to sit and wait while eleven other districts are examined. We stopped making small talk somewhere around District Four and have sat there in nervous silence for hours, waiting.

I glance at Katniss. Her face is a mask, impassive. Only a slight quavering of her voice belies the tension that she...that we both...feel.

Maybe I shouldn't wait until the interviews to tell her how I feel. Maybe Haymitch was right. Maybe I should tell her after our interview prep training sessions with Effie and Haymitch. Or maybe I shouldn't say anything at all.

No. She has to know. She has a RIGHT to know. I need her to know how I feel...even if she doesn't feel the same way about me...because when I die for her in the arena I want her to understand that I died to protect her out of love for her. Maybe that will mean something to her...so she won't forget me. So she -

"Peeta Mellark!" The disembodied voice calls my name for my session. I stand up, trying to look calm.

"Remember what Haymitch said about being sure to throw the weights," Katniss says suddenly. She hadn't spoken a word to me in hours. I turn to her.

"Thanks, I will," I say. "You...shoot straight." Katniss looks at me and nods once. I turn and enter the training room. Once I announce my name and district to the Gamemakers, I'll have ten minutes to impress them.

As I walk into the room I scan the Gamemakers gallery. I can see...and hear...a group of them huddled together, swaying and singing some sort of drinking song. This irritates me. They're supposed to be paying attention. Only a few are actually watching me as I stop, stand, and announce myself.

"Peeta Mellark. District Twelve."

The Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, glances at me and nods. I walk over to the weight rack and select a large metal ball, like the one I threw a couple of days ago to impress the Careers. I step forward, picking my target - a dummy about twenty feet away - cock, wind and throw as hard as I can.

And miss.

The ball clangs to the floor and rolls a bit before stopping. I quickly grab another and throw again. This time I clip the dummy, but still not a solid hit. I glance up and see only a couple of Gamemakers watching me. I feel panicky as I grab yet a third weight but as I wind to throw I feel it shifting and slipping. The weight slips from my hand and clangs loudly to the floor, almost hitting my foot as I dance out of the way.

This is disastrous. I need to do something else, and quick.

"May I get a hand to hand partner?" I call out. One of the Gamemakers that was actually paying attention nods and signals someone on the gallery. He turns back to me.

"Mr. Mellark, we've stopped your clock for the time it will take to get your hand to hand partner. Just relax for a few moments...and try not to drop anything on your feet in the meantime." I redden at the joke the Gamemaker just had at my expense, but when I look up at him he's smiling kindly at me. Another Gamemaker approaches him.

"Plutarch, the hand to hand partner will be here in one minute," the other Gamemaker says. He gets a nod in response.

"Did you hear that, Mr. Mellark?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you." The Gamemaker waves his hand dismissively. Shortly afterwards my hand to hand partner walks in. It's the same one that I had trained with before. He was impressed with my skills. He smiles in recognition as we move to the mat.

"Your time starts...now," I hear the Gamemaker - Plutarch - say.

My partner steps forward to shake my hand and as he does he whispers, "Don't worry, kid. I'll make you look good." I smile my thanks as we start.

We spar for a few minutes and he's true to his word. Time and again I throw him, take him down, and put him in one hold after another. He's good...he makes it look like he's really fighting hard. Finally, I hear a soft chime and my partner slaps me on the shoulder and stands up. We shake hands one last time.

"Good luck, kid," he says before leaving.

I face the gallery. Seneca Crane stands up.

"Thank you, Mr. Mellark. You may go," he says. I nod and head for the exit. I hope I did better than I think I did.

As I walk to the exit I send one thought to my district partner.

_Shoot straight, Katniss._


	8. INTERVIEW PREP DAY

**INTERVIEW PREP DAY**

My eyes snap open as I wake with a start. For a few seconds, like every other morning here, I am disoriented. The realization of where I'm at sinks in and I lay back in the luxurious bed with a sigh.

Training is over...the physical part, anyway. Since our arrival here our entire team has presented us as a pair, rather than as two individuals. From our flaming entrance at the Tribute Parade, to the days of training in the basement gymnasium, all four principals responsible for preparing us for the Games - Haymitch, Effie, Cinna, and Portia - have worked to keep Katniss and I together through every step. It's a different strategy, no doubt brought about at least in part by my confession to Haymitch of my love for Katniss on the Tribute Train.

I chuckle a bit, remembering Haymitch's barely concealed shock when I told him of my feelings for my district partner. I stretch one more time and glance at the clock. Today is interview prep day. And the day that I need to ask to be coached separately.

I swing my feet out of bed and head for the bathroom. As I brush my teeth I wonder how Katniss will react. Well, for better or worse, she will know why I asked for separate coaching tomorrow night.

After a quick shower I get dressed. No matched training clothes today. I grab a short sleeved pullover shirt from the closet, a pair of pants, and a comfortable looking pair of shoes. I hurry...I want to be in the dining room before Katniss.

As I head into the dining room I see the redheaded Avox girl that Katniss had recognized, and again wondered what she had done to begin with to try to run away from the Capitol. I give her a friendly smile as I pass by. I wish I could say more to her but I'm sure it would be overheard. Still, I surprise her with my smile, and, after briefly hesitating, returns my smile with a small smile of her own.

I enter the dining room. Good, only Effie is here so far. I really need Haymitch here as well, though.

I quickly go down the buffet table, filling my plate to near overflowing. I walk to the table and sit across from Effie. She greets me with her trademark, "Another big, big, big day ahead!" I nod politely. She's fretting now about Katniss not being at breakfast, and whether or not she should go and see if she's awake. At that moment Haymitch joins us at the table.

"Sleep well?" He asks airily. I simply nod as Effie launches into her daily speech about schedules and timetables. Haymitch just looks bored as he breaks small pieces of pastry and dunks them in his coffee before eating them

"About today," I begin, "I know that you've been presenting the two of us as a team...but from now on I'd like to be coached separately."

Haymitch raises his eyebrows as he methodically spreads jam on a piece of toast. "Oh? This is a new development," he says, "And what brought this on?"

"I'd rather not go into that right now," I reply. I see both Haymitch and Effie focusing on something behind me and I know Katniss must be in the room.

"Later," I hiss. They both nod. Katniss sits down next to me and begins eating. I smile at her breakfast choice. Lamb stew over rice. She has really acquired a taste for that here. Katniss is eating with gusto while I'm just sort of picking at my plate. The only sound at the table is that of silverware on china. Finally Katniss stops eating, takes a large drink of her orange juice, and asks, "So, what's going on? You're coaching us on interviews today, right?"

"That's right," Haymitch says cautiously, glancing over at me.

"You don't have to wait until I'm done," says Katniss, "I can listen and eat at the same time."

"Well, there's been a change of plans. About our current approach." Haymitch says.

"What's that?" asks Katniss. Haymitch once again almost imperceptibly glances over at me. I take a deep breath.

I see Haymitch shrug. "Peeta has asked to be coached separately."

I feel myself tense, but all Katniss does is narrow her eyes a tiny bit, then she says, "Good. So what's the schedule?"

"You'll each have four hours with Effie for presentation, and four hours with me for content," says Haymitch, "You start with Effie, Katniss." Katniss nods tersely, throws her napkin down, gets up, and walks out of the dining room with Effie. Not once did she glance my way.

Haymitch looks at me with amusement. "She took that rather well, don't you think?"

Unsmiling, I stand up. "Let's get started," I say. Haymitch nods and stands up. "Your room," he says.

Once in my room he carefully locks the door. He then turns and looks at me, then motions me to sit. He sits as well.

"So, I assume that your content will be...Katniss?" he asks.

"Yes," I say simply. Haymitch regards me for a moment, then sadly shakes his head.

"And ever since that first night on the train I was hoping that your passionate confession to me was all a dream," he says while sighing heavily. He pulls a flask out and unscrews the top while he talks.

"You said you weren't gonna drink as long as you were still mentoring us," I say accusingly.

"Wrong. I said I would stay sober enough to help you. I'm doing just that," he says as he takes a quick pull from the flask, replaces the cap, and sticks it back in an inside pocket.

"Okay," he begins, "So, you really, truly, love this girl." He says it as a statement, not a question.

"Yes," I say firmly.

"And, you haven't said a word to her about how you feel?"

"No," I answer.

"And you're sure you want to do this...in front of the entire country?" he continues.

"Yes," I say with more conviction than I actually feel.

Haymitch strokes his unshaven jaw thoughtfully. "Why?" he asks simply.

"Why what?" I reply. Why? Isn't it obvious?

"Well, you want her to know how you feel, right? Why not just tell her privately? Today's a light day, tomorrow's even lighter, why not just tell her? You'll have plenty of time."

"Haymitch, I've loved this girl for eleven YEARS. If it were that simple, don't you think I would've done it by now?"

"I see your point," says Haymitch thoughtfully, "Okay. How are you gonna tell her? Remember, you only have three minutes from the time Caesar announces your name."

"I haven't figured that part out yet," I admit.

"Well, you can't just blurt it out," says Haymitch, "It'll have to look natural...better if Caesar has to draw it out of you. He's really good at that, by the way. He can make the dullest, stupidest tribute sound exciting."

"Fine, whatever he has to do," I say impatiently.

"This may just work," Haymitch says to himself, "Seventy Three prior games and NOT ONCE has a tribute ever confessed their love for a fellow tribute. This is gold!"

"Haymitch, don't cheapen it by making it a part of the Games!" I snap. "My feelings are real!"

"I hate to burst your bubble, kid...but every facet of your life from the second Effie read your name off has been a part of the Games," says Haymitch gently, "And if I can use this to help either or both of you, I will. That's my job, remember?"

I sit there, saying nothing, but with a stubborn look plastered on my face.

"Look, kid," he continues patiently, "Caesar will make it look very natural. It won't be cheap, that I can promise you. Caesar truly cares about each and every tribute that crosses his stage."

I'm still not convinced, but finally I say, "Okay. I trust you."

Haymitch smiles. "Good! I'll talk to Caesar tomorrow. He always wants input from the Mentors for the interviews. He'll do a good job, believe me. One more thing, though...never mention Katniss by name even after you drop the bomb on everyone."

"Why?" I ask, puzzled.

"I want people to think," says Haymitch, "So when they finally understand it hits them all hard. So say something like, 'She's the one sitting next to me here,' or 'She was the girl from my district that volunteered for her sister,' or, 'she came here with me.' Got it?"

"Got it," I say firmly.

Haymitch sits back. "I knew you'd be easy for content. Katniss will be the challenge. That audience will eat up everything you say and do. Remember, up until your love confession, you need to be your usual charming, witty self. Be funny, but watch out that you don't get cocky."

"I can do that," I say.

"I know you can," Haymitch says, "Okay, I want talk a little strategy with you. We have time."

"Okay," I say, "Shoot."

Haymitch pauses, then says, "After the gong...I want you to get in with the Careers."

I don't think I heard him right. Did he say get in with the Careers?

"I'd love to hear your logic behind that strategy," I say.

"I'm worried about Cato and Clove," Haymitch says. "They're gonna be furious at the eleven Katniss pulled down for her training score. She's got a huge target on her back now. You can bet she'll be their top priority as soon as the gong sounds."

"What about Districts One and Four?" I ask, "Aren't they part of the Career pack also?"

Haymitch nods. "Yeah, but they won't be vested emotionally with killing Katniss. To them she's someone they will get to when the opportunity presents itself. Cato and Clove...well, they're...different. Those two aren't all there. They're the most dangerous."

I ponder this for a moment. Join the Careers? I'd rather stick my head into a tracker jacker nest. Haymitch continues explaining his strategy.

"Publicly, the advice that I'm gonna give you both is this: Get away from the cornucopia the instant the gong sounds. Hopefully, for once, she'll actually listen to me and get out of there. You, on the other hand, need to find either Cato or Clove and make sure that they understand that you can give them Katniss. Tell them what they want to hear. If they question you, tell them that Katniss outright rejected you and you want your revenge. Give them just enough so that they trust you."

"How's all this gonna help her?" I ask.

"It gives her time," says Haymitch. "Time for her to get her hands on a bow, or make one if she has to. You always...ALWAYS...have to be on your guard with them. You need to convince them that you can lead them right to her. Make a good show of it...lead them close to where you think she may be. Never trust any of them. And if you think they figure out your ruse, drop them like a bad habit and get out of there!"

"Any other advice?" I ask.

"Stay alive," says Haymitch grimly.


	9. LAUNCH DAY

**LAUNCH DAY**

The last face I see is Portia's as she smiles at me and mouths "Good luck" as my platform begins to rise. This is it, I say to myself. I make a conscious effort to control my breathing and my stomach feels tied up in knots. I clench my fists to keep my hands from trembling. Portia had just removed my bandages before I was sealed in the launch tube. All that's left of the small wounds on both hands are small pink marks. Healed on the outside, they both still hurt.

Portia disappears and for a few seconds I'm in total darkness, then blinding light as the platform emerges into daylight. I blink frantically to clear the spots in front of my eyes.

My eyes adjust to the sunlight and I glance around quickly at my surroundings. I can feel wind on my face and a scent of pine in my nose.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games begin!" The voice of Claudius Templesmith, the long time Hunger Games announcer, booms from all around me.

I'm to the right of the Cornucopia entrance. There seems to be nothing behind the Cornucopia. A lake lies to my right and trees to my left. I risk a quick glance behind me. More trees.

I take a quick inventory of the tributes that I can see. I spot Katniss, five tributes to my left. She's doing what I'm doing - looking around, taking inventory. Between Katniss and I is the redheaded girl from District Five. Her eyes meet mine for perhaps a second. She looks terrified. Of more immediate concern is another tribute I see between us. Clove. The District Two female tribute that's so deadly with knives. She, too, catches my eye but I see a cruel smile on her face. She's definitely NOT terrified. Past Katniss I see the boy from District Nine and, a little further on, Thresh from District Eleven.

I risk a glance to my right. The District Eight girl is right next to me. Beyond her I can see Marvel from District One and further on I see Rue from District Eleven.

My mind quickly tallies up my observations. Three credible threats: Clove, Thresh and Marvel. I'm going to have to contact one of the two Careers if I'm going to be able to put Haymitch's plan in action and actually join their pack.

First things first. The countdown is still going on. I look back at Katniss and see she is staring fixedly at something. I follow her gaze. Oh, no. Resting on top of a pile of blankets, gleaming in the sun, is a bow and a full quiver of arrows. I know she's gauging her chances of grabbing it...but it's almost to the Cornucopia entrance!

No! She'll be killed! I will her to look at me. Come on Katniss, look this way, come on, come on, come on, look this - yes! Her eyes meet mine and I quickly shake my head. I see confusion on her face and I shake my head again. Don't do it. Don't do it.

The gong sounds! Sixty seconds are up! I freeze for a split second while I regain my train of thought, then, without thinking, I'm off the platform and sprinting as fast as I can...toward the bow and arrows!

I catch just a quick glimpse of Katniss as she jumps off her platform and scoops up a couple of items from the ground. I'm still headed for the bow. If I can just get to it maybe -

A body slams into me from my right and behind me. I feel my wind knocked out in a rush of air as I hit the ground. My years of wrestling pay off as I instinctively roll and come up in a fighting crouch. I barely register my attacker - a girl - as she comes in low and fast. I shuffle back a few steps to position myself for her assault, while trying to regain my breath at the same time.

I'm dimly aware of shouts and screams from all around me as other kids scramble for weapons and supplies. My attacker closes with me striking out furiously. I'm completely defensive but then I see an opening. I duck a blow, grab the arm as the fist barely grazes my head, and sweep out with my back leg.

Off balance, she tumbles to the ground and I waste no time in putting her into a choke hold. She's still struggling mightily as I pull her backwards, keeping her off balance. She tries to head butt me, her blonde hair whipping me in the face and I suddenly realize who I'm holding on to.

Glimmer.

The District One girl is just what I need to get into the Career pack. I tighten my hold on her and hear her coughing and fighting for breath. I look around me quickly and I see the Careers are quickly consolidating their position. I see Clove pulling a knife from someone...the District Nine boy from the looks of him. Marvel has a bloody spear pointed at the small boy from District Three. I can see the kid talking to him rapidly, and Marvel's face is twisted in confusion.

There's Cato! He's the leader of this pack. I'm gonna have to convince him. If I can, the others will fall in step behind him. He's emerging from the Cornucopia with a bloody sword clenched in his hand. The coppery smell of blood is strong in the air and I fight down the sudden urge to gag.

Glimmers struggles weaken and I relax my hold on her a bit. She's no good to me dead.

Clove spots us first and quickly raises her arm to throw a knife. I twist around using Glimmer as a shield.

"Cato!" Clove shouts. Cato looks over at Clove and sees her threatening me with her knife. He quickly jogs over with an amused smile on his face as he stands next to Clove.

"Who do we have here?" He asks, "Is that...wait a minute...Lover Boy?" Out of the corner of my eye I see Marvel approaching, prodding the District Three boy ahead of him with his spear. He grabs the kid by the shoulder and they stop. I feel a brief flash of pity when I see that the District Three boy...who couldn't be older the fourteen...has wet his pants.

Glimmer is still struggling. I say nothing. The next move has to be Cato's.

"You're in a lose-lose situation here, Lover Boy," Cato says with a smirk. "You kill her...we kill you. You let her go...we still kill you. Guess you have a choice to make." He laughs and the others join him.

"Option number three," I say, trying to keep my voice from trembling, "I join you."

At this Cato roars with laughter. "Oh, that's a GOOD one, Lover Boy!" He says with a smirk. Another girl has joined them. District Four. "Please tell us what good exactly you would bring to our alliance here?"

This is it, I think. If they don't believe me, I'm dead. I say one word. "Katniss."

Cato eyes me suspiciously. "Say again?"

"Katniss," I repeat, then, "Katniss Everdeen? The Girl on Fire?"

"Yeah, yeah...Fire Bitch. I know her," Cato spits out. Good. He REALLY hates her.

"You want her. I can give her to you," I say simply.

Clove glances at Cato. "Don't trust him!" She hisses, but Cato waves her off.

"Sixty seconds, Lover Boy. One minute to convince me."

I take another deep breath. My next step involves me letting go of Glimmer. My insurance. But I have to show him my hands in order to sound convincing.

"One minute?" I ask. Cato nods. "I need to let Glimmer go to show you something. On your honor you'll give me the minute?"

"I'm District Two, Lover Boy," Cato snaps, "Honor is everything there. You have my word."

Without hesitation I let Glimmer go. She collapses to the ground, coughing and gagging and holding her throat. I approach Cato slowly and stretch my arms out.

"Look," I say. He examines my hands quickly.

"What happened?" He asks simply. I quickly explain Katniss's attack on me the night before, falling into the shattered remains of the urn after she attacked me, slicing up my hands just hours before the start of the Games.

"Looks like she doesn't quite return your affections," Cato says with a smirk. It's all I can do to not punch it off his face. Instead, I just nod quietly.

"No," I say with false anger, "She humiliated me. I want her dead."

"So, what can you bring to us?" Cato asks.

"I know her habits. I know how she moves in the woods. The places she'll try to hide in. I can give her to you wrapped in a bow," I knew nothing about her habits or how she moves in the woods. If Cato doesn't buy it, I'm dead where I stand..

He considers this for a moment. Finally he speaks.

"And after I kill her? You know then you won't be of any more use to me." He's almost gentle as he tells me this.

I think fast. Gotta give him something reasonable. "After she's dead, promise me, on your honor, that you'll give me a thirty minute head start. That's all I ask."

"Thirty minutes?" He looks around at the rest of his alliance. Marvel looks confused, Clove is glaring at me, the District Four girl looks bored, and if looks could kill, the one Glimmer was giving me would certainly drop me in my tracks. But none of them matter. It's Cato's decision. "Thirty minutes works. More 'sporting' that way," he murmurs to himself.

Finally, he nods and sticks out his hand. "Welcome to the Careers, Lover Boy."


	10. MERCY KILLING

**MERCY KILLING**

**CORNUCOPIA**

Once Cato and I shook hands as he sarcastically welcomed me into the Career Pack, he takes a few minutes to introduce me to the other Tributes in my new "alliance."

"Gather round," he barks at the others. No, there's no doubt that he is in charge here. "I've decided that Lover Boy here just may be a useful addition to our alliance. Any objections?"

"Yeah, just one. He tried to kill me!" Glimmer snaps.

Before Cato can reply I quickly speak up. "If I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be having this conversation," I say calmly. I have to show them that I'm as ruthless as they are if I'm gonna get them to trust me.

Glimmer glares at me as Marvel and Clove both snicker. Cato just smiles...approvingly, I think. Glimmer starts to say something but Cato stops her.

"Glimmer - shut up," he says calmly. I see Glimmer redden at the rebuke but she says nothing, and continues to rub her throat.

"As I was saying, Lover Boy here is one of us...for the time being anyway," Cato says, "So you might as well meet the rest of the crew."

He indicates Marvel first. "Marvel - Lover Boy. Lover Boy - Marvel." To my surprise Marvel steps forward and offers his hand. I don't hesitate as I take it. We shake hands firmly.

"Marvel," he says with a smile.

"Peeta," I reply, returning his smile.

"And this is Clove," Cato says, indicating his district partner. She regards me coolly but doesn't offer her hand. She's even shorter than Katniss, but compact and strong.

"Hello, Clove," I say with a lot more warmth than I feel. "I'm Peeta."

"Whatever, Lover Boy," she says with a smirk.

"And you've already met Glimmer," Cato says, grinning. The blonde girl is still glaring at me.

"Sorry for being so rough, Glimmer," I say by way of an apology. She looks surprised at my apology, and shrugs her shoulders. A little of the fire goes out of her eyes. I'm gonna have to butter this one up, I say to myself.

"Forget it, Lover Boy," she says flatly. I still have some work to do on her, otherwise she'll be watching me like a hawk.

"From District Four, Chelsea," Cato indicates the slim, dark haired girl. She steps forward and surprises me by offering her hand. We shake briefly.

"Normally, I'd say 'nice to meet you,' but it's really not, is it?" Chelsea says with a smile.

"It would be if things were different," I reply with my own smile, turning on the charm.

Chelsea actually blushes a bit. "Well...anyway...hello, Peeta," she stammers. Nice that someone here actually used my name.

"Hello, Chelsea," I say.

"And I'm Cato...but you already knew that, didn't you, Lover Boy?" Cato steps between Chelsea and I. He doesn't offer his hand.

"Yeah...I did," is all I say.

"And what's this, Marvel?" Cato asks, indicating the boy from District Three. The kid is seated on the ground, looking absolutely miserable.

"Oh...uhh...well, I was gonna stick him, but he started to babble about being able to re-activate the mines," Marvel explains.

"Is that right?" Cato says with a sneer. He walks over to the trembling boy, who's looking up at him, the fear evident on his face. Cato tosses the sword he was carrying to one side and squats down.

The kid bites his lip and I can see his chin trembling. He blinks rapidly and tears roll down his cheeks. Cato smiles cruelly.

"What's your name, Three?" Cato asks.

"Al - Alva," the boy answers in a soft, trembling voice.

"Okay, Alva," Cato squats down in front of him. "Same deal as with Lover Boy. Sixty seconds to explain to me what you're talking about with these mines. Go!"

Alva begins to talk rapidly. He's still scared, but he confidently explains how the mines could be dug up from around each platform and re-activated. Cato listens intently, then asks just one question.

"And what good are a bunch of re-activated mines gonna do me?" He asks.

"You could plant them around the supplies," Alva explains, "That way you wouldn't have to have someone there all the time to guard them. Place them in a pattern so you can still get to the supplies, but anyone else would get blown to bits."

Cato nods thoughtfully. "And you're sure you can re-activate them?" He asks.

Alva nods confidently. "The circuitry is simple. They're harmless right now. We dig them up, plant them where we want them, and re-arm them. Just take me a minute or two to re-arm each one once they're planted."

Cato sits back, mulling over what he's just been told. "And what do you get out of this?" He finally asks.

Alva points to me. "Same deal as him. Once everyone else out here is...dead...you give me a thirty minute head start."

Cato stands up. "Okay, kid," he says, "Only we're putting you to work around here. We need someone to guard camp while we're out hunting." I shudder when he says hunting. It's not animals he's talking about. "So, you're on guard duty when we're out. Fair enough?"

To his credit, Alva stands up and sticks out his hand. He's a good foot shorter than Cato and probably a hundred pounds lighter, but he's making a mans deal with the larger, older boy. Cato grins as he takes the smaller boys hand.

"Deal," says Alva. They shake and Cato turns to the rest of the Pack. "Okay, Brain here is gonna need some help with the mines, but first things first. Let's drag everything out -"

Cato's orders are interrupted by the Post-Bloodbath cannon blasts. Everyone stops to listen, counting each one. I count along, comparing my final number with the number of bloodied corpses littering the ground all around us. The numbers match. Katniss is still alive!

Hoverplanes swoop in, lowering claws to collect up the dead Tributes. Silently we move to one side as they perform their grisly task. After they leave, everyone is uncharacteristically somber. Cato glances at Alva and notices his stained pants for the first time.

"Brain - go in the Cornucopia and find some clean pants to wear," Cato says, almost gently. Alva scampers away gratefully. "The rest of you - let's get this camp organized!

**CAMP**

A few hours later, camp is set up and the remaining supplies are stacked up in a large pyramid a short distance from the camp. It almost looks homey...awnings set up for shade, small tents pitched for sleeping, a fire pit dug and a fire blazing away. Then you remember why you're here and it no longer looks peaceful and inviting.

All the Careers have armed themselves. Cato has a sword and several knives, Clove is literally festooned with blades of various shapes and sizes, Marvel has several spears, and Glimmer...Glimmer has Katniss's bow and quiver of arrows! Chelsea has several knives and a wicked looking axe, as well as a spear.

Alva had been excused from camp building duty and instead had been busy digging up the mines from around the twenty four platforms. As each of us finished our assigned tasks Cato directed us in turn to go help him. The Cornucopia had several small folding shovels that made the task easier.

As the afternoon wore on, the pile of mines near the supply dump continued to grow. As the pattern around each platform was identical, and the mines were perfectly harmless to handle, soon Cato relieved Alva of digging duty and had him get to work planting and rearming the mines around the pyramid of supplies.

I find myself paired up with Marvel on digging detail. Clove and Chelsea were doing the same thing on the opposite side of the Cornucopia. Glimmer was sitting with Cato underneath one of the awnings, flirting and laughing with him.

Marvel shakes his head. "Nothing ever changes," he mutters.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

He straightens briefly and points back towards camp. "Glimmer," he says, "Always flirting. Been that way for years."

"You've known her for a while?" Marvel nods.

"We were in the Academy together," he explains. Classmates at the District One Career Academy. Interesting.

"Clove's not gonna like that one bit," he says with a chuckle.

"Oh?" I reply. Keep talking, Marvel.

"You haven't seen the way she looks at Cato?" Marvel asks. I shake my head.

"I've spent the last few days trying to stay out of your way, remember," I say with a smile.

Marvel grunts and stands up, another mine in his hands. "True," he says, wiping his dirty hands on his pants. "We tend to...intimidate people."

"Uhh...yeah," I reply, straightening up with my own mine.

"Well, Clove's obviously got the hots for Cato...but Cato prefers blondes, it seems," Marvel says with a snicker.

I laugh dutifully at his joke. "What about you, Marvel?" I ask. Marvel turns and looks at me with narrowed eyes. Uh oh...don't overstep, Mellark.

"What about me, what?" He barks.

"You got a girl back in One?" I quickly ask. Marvel visibly relaxes.

"Yeah," he finally says, quietly. "I do. How about y - sorry," he stammers.

"No," I say slowly. I have to keep up my part...make them believe. "It seems I never did."

We continue to dig for a while in silence, then Marvel asks, "So what did she do?"

As I pry another mine from the ground I quickly tell him how I hurt my hands. At least now I'm telling the truth. He asks to see my hands and his brow furrows sympathetically.

"Wow...she must have really been pissed!" He exclaims. I nod sadly.

"You've no idea," I reply ruefully.

Marvel stands up holding the last mine in his hands. "I think that's the last of them," he says, "Come on."

We each gather up an armful of mines and walk towards the supply pyramid. As we pass the campsite we can see Glimmer and Cato still laughing and flirting. I hear Marvel mutter one word under his breath.

"Bitch."

**HUNTING**

Later that evening, after we got cleaned up and had something to eat, we were relaxing by the fire. Cato was outlining his strategy to the rest of the crew. Cato seemed to be in a good mood. He even told Alva to knock off rearming the mines and to finish them in the morning. Alva gratefully washed up and joined us for dinner. While we ate Cato handed Alva a spear.

"Try not to stick yourself with this, Brain," Cato says sarcastically, "You're no use to me hurt, and no use as a guard without a weapon." Alva accepted the weapon silently, face reddening from Cato's sarcasm. Clove and Chelsea both laugh at Alva's expense, then start playfully flirting with him. Clove kept glancing at Cato, looking for a reaction, but was disappointed when he kept paying attention to Glimmer.

As I finish up my dinner, Marvel comes by and drops a spear and a knife at my feet. I look up at him in surprise.

"Well, you need something when we go hunting," he explains. I look at him quizzically.

"After we finish up dinner we're going hunting," he says patiently. "Primarily for Fire Bitch, but we'll take anything we can find. And, being as you know her habits so well, we need to take you with us. Cato's having Brain watch the camp while we're gone."

I grit my teeth at Katniss being called "Fire Bitch" again but say nothing. Eventually, though, they'll pay for it.

A short while later Cato gathers us all together. "Alright. Time for a little hunting party." He laughs as the rest of the Pack whoops and hollers. I join in, not feeling any of the enthusiasm that the others were showing.

"Alright, Lover Boy, it's showtime. Which way do we go?" Cato looks at me questioningly. Oh, great. I have to lead them...someplace. Fortunately, Chelsea saves me.

"I saw her running that way," she says, indicating the forest. I nod quickly.

"Right. That's where she'll go. She likes the woods." I tell them this with confidence, hoping that I'm not too right.

Cato surveys us one last time. "Okay. Let's go. Brain - keep that fire going!" With that, he sets off for the woods. We all dutifully trail along behind him: Glimmer, Chelsea, Marvel, me, then Clove. I'm sure it's no accident that Clove is bringing up the rear. She doesn't trust me at all.

As we move through the forest, I'm gratified by the amount of noise that we're making. If we are heading in Katniss's direction, she'll hear us long before we're anywhere close, and hopefully be able to either get out of our way or find someplace to hide.

Hours pass. We see no one. All of us, myself included, have taken at least a couple of falls during the night, tripping over tree roots and rocks. Our knees are scraped, the heels of our hands missing a layer or two of skin. My arm has a nice gash in it from where it caught a jagged branch during one of my falls and my face feels tender in the spots that Glimmer had head butted me earlier. My ankle is tender from almost twisting it on an exposed root. Still we trek on. Cato is getting more and more irritable the longer we're out here. At one point he suddenly turns on me.

"I thought you said you could find her, Lover Boy!" Cato says angrily, grabbing me by my jacket front.

"Cato, she practically LIVES in the woods," I explain reasonably, "We may have walked right by her and not known it. Don't worry, I'm looking for signs...keeping an eye out for snares."

He lets go of me with a jerk with a guttural sound. As he moves back to the head of the Pack suddenly Chelsea grabs him.

"Cato - look!" She points. We all follow her arm and see, very faintly, the light of a fire. For a moment I feel my heart sink, thinking it's Katniss. But no, she wouldn't be so careless as to leave a fire burning.

Cato's face breaks into a feral grin. "Let's go!" He barks, and breaks out into a run towards the fire. We all quickly follow, crashing through the underbrush. As we run I think that whoever it is must be deaf not to hear us coming. The light of the fire is clearer now, then suddenly I run into Marvel's back as he stops suddenly. Clove slams into me from behind as I stop. I hear her mutter a curse under her breath.

We've broken into a small clearing. A small fire is blazing and I can see a girl huddled near the flames. Amazingly, she's asleep! Cato turns and looks at us, smiling. He steps forward, deliberately stepping on a dry branch near the fire the breaks with a loud snap.

The sleeping girl jerks and twists her head around. I see her eyes widen in terror as she takes us all in. I breathe a heavy sigh of relief when I see that it's not Katniss.

"Sleep well?" Cato asks her in a mocking tone. The girl pushes herself up to a sitting position as a whimper escapes her throat. I recognize her now. District Eight. I don't know her name.

Cato hands his sword to Glimmer as he steps forward. The terrified girl crab walks backwards, away from his advance. Clove and Chelsea quickly move behind her, cutting off any chance of escape. I see a cruel smile spread across Cato's face as he approaches the girl and slowly draws a knife from his belt.

Today, during the bloodbath, eleven tributes died. I was there in the thick of it all. But it was all so confusing, people running and shouting, and I had my own problems to deal with at the time in making sure Glimmer didn't kill me. But now...somehow this was worse. Personal. I'm going to have to stand here and watch Cato murder this girl.

How tempting it is to step forward and plunge my spear into Cato's back. I feel my grip tighten on the shaft. But, I know I can't do it. Not and save Katniss.

"Please," the girl on the ground chokes out, "Please...I'll...I'll do anything. Please don't," she pleads, sobbing.

"Please don't what?" Cato asks in a mocking tone. The rest of the Careers are all laughing. Laugh away, you sick bastards, I say to myself.

"Kill me," the girl whimpers. "Please don't...kill me..." I can see her tear stained face. Cato kneels next to her, holding his knife so she can see the blade glinting in the firelight.

"Are you scared, little girl?" He asks in a taunting tone. She nods frantically.

"Yes," she whispers. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly with her breathing.

"Aww," Cato says mockingly. He reaches out and strokes her hair, laughing as she flinches away.

"Please!" The girl begs. "I...don't want to die." Her voice rises in a wail at the last word.

Cato laughs again. But, some are getting impatient.

"Just off her, Cato! Stop playing around! We're all cold," Clove snaps. Cato glares at her but says nothing as the others grumble their agreement.

He puts his free hand on her shoulder and she flinches away again, giving a little scream. "Aww, c'mon, guys...just trying to give everyone a good show!" The girl was sobbing openly again, still pleading "Please...please."

Suddenly Cato's grip tightens on her shoulder and he plunges his knife deep into her. The girls back arches and she gives an agonized choking wail. Cato holds the knife in her, then suddenly jerks it free. Blood pours from the wound. In the firelight it almost looks black. The girl collapses to the ground. I fight hard to keep from throwing up.

"About time," Clove grumbles, but Glimmer, Chelsea and Marvel are all whooping and congratulating Cato, who casually wipes his blade on the girls clothes and stands up.

"Twelve down, eleven to go!" Glimmer shouts. Another round of whoops. I join in but definitely feel no joy.

"Okay, let's see if she has anything good," he says. Quickly they go through the girls meager possessions but find nothing useful.

"Better clear out so they can get the body before it starts stinking," Cato says. We quickly form up and start back to camp. We walk for maybe five minutes before Clove speaks up.

"Shouldn't we have heard a cannon by now?" She asks testily.

"I'd say yes," Cato replies, "Nothing to prevent them from going in immediately."

"Unless she isn't dead," Cloves says irritably.

"She's dead," Cato say confidently. "I stuck her myself."

"Then where's the cannon?" Clove asks.

"Someone should go back," Marvel says, "Make sure the job's done."

"Yeah, we don't have to want to track her down twice," Chelsea chimes in.

"I say she's dead!" Cato snaps.

We are stopped dead now while the five Careers argue. I'm cold and just want to get warmed up and maybe sleep a little bit...although I know every time I close my eyes I know I'll see Cato stabbing her again.

Finally, I've had enough. "We're wasting time! I'll go finish her and let's move on!"

The others stop arguing instantly and stare at me in surprise. Cato finally speaks.

"Go on, then, Lover Boy," he says, "See for yourself."

I nod quickly. "This won't take long." As I walk back to the still burning fire, I pray silently that the girl dies before I get there. But, there's no cannon. I walk into the clearing and see the girl laying on her side, moaning softly, clutching the wound in her stomach. I swallow heavily as I slowly approach her.

She suddenly becomes aware of my presence and whimpers as she tries to move away from me, then chokes down a cry of pain from the movement.

"Shhhh," I say gently. "I'm not -" I stop. Not what? Not going to hurt you? That sounds so stupid right now it's almost funny. "I'm not...going to let you suffer," I finish gently.

I kneel next to her as she watches me with eyes filled with fear and pain. I can see that her hands are covered with blood, but it doesn't look like she's bleeding enough to bleed to death. I remember from Training one of the instructors talking about different wounds, and saying that a belly wound like this sometimes taking days to die.

I'm not going to let this girl lay here for days, in pain, knowing that she's going to die. What I need to do makes me feel like I have to throw up but it's the only option.

The girl is looking up at me fearfully. I look down at her and smile reassuringly. I reach over and gently stroke her hair. She flinches a bit at the contact but her eyes never leave me.

"What's your name?" I ask quietly. She looks at me in surprise, then licks her bloody lips and I can see her swallowing hard. She's too dry, I say to myself. She can't answer. I reach for a water bottle on my belt. I know you aren't supposed to give belly wounds water to drink, but I figure at this point it won't hurt her.

"Do you want water?" I ask, and see her nod quickly. I prop up her head with one hand and guide the mouth of the bottle to her lips. She drinks, coughs once, spraying me with water and blood, then drinks again, gulping down water. Finally she pulls her mouth from the bottle.

"Thank you," she says quietly. "I'm Holland."

"I'm Peeta," I say gently. Holland laughs quietly. She laughs. At a time like this.

"Lover Boy," she says, "Interviews. I remember." I nod. She suddenly flinches and squeezes her eyes shut as a pain spasm tears through her.

"Please, Peeta," she says softly, "Please make it stop hurting."

She opens her eyes as I stroke her hair. My eyes are stinging from my own tears. She smiles up at me.

"There's only...one thing I can do...to make it stop hurting, Holland," I say thickly.

She nods. "I know. Please. Do it."

I draw my knife out and turn her head to the side. My fingers move over her neck until I can feel her pulse pounding under my fingers. I grip my knife tighter...but I hesitate. I'm no murderer. I can't do it.

She looks up at me. "Don't...worry. This...will help. It's...merciful."

"I'm so sorry," I whisper. She closes her eyes and smiles. "Thank you," she whispers.

I grit my teeth and replace my fingers with the point of the knife. I can feel her tense and gasp at the feel of the steel. I push hard before I lose my nerve. A single sob escapes my throat as I feel her blood spurt out over my hands. She lets out a single whimper. I feel her blood pulsing out over the knife handle start to slow, and I carefully pull the blade from her neck.

Her hands relax over her belly wound. She coughs once, spraying blood over the ground and I feel her body spasm once, twice, then relax as her final breath escapes her mouth in a long sigh.

I hold her head for another minute or two. I tell myself I did the right thing...I took her pain away. I showed her mercy. But why do I feel like a murderer?

I pick up the discarded water bottle and use the remaining water to wash her blood off my hands as best I could. I wipe my knife off on her clothing, then stand up and start to head back to the rest of the Pack. I don't look back.

When I reach the others Cato looks at me. "Was she dead?" He asks.

"No. But she is now," I say tiredly. At that moment the cannon fires. "Ready to move on?" I ask. The others stand up and, without a word, we start to head back to camp at a run. As we run I impulsively keep wiping my hands on my pants.

But no matter what I do, her blood will always be on them.


	11. THE RIVER

**THE RIVER**

I lay next to the river, my head reeling with fever. The heat radiating from my body is tempered somewhat by the cool mud I have covered myself with in an attempt to blend in to the river bank. Dimly, I can hear the soft gurgling of the water as it flows smoothly past my supine body. The pain in my leg has subsided to a dull ache that's almost bearable...at least until I try to move. Then the white hot agony returns with a vengeance.

I haven't moved for many hours. I don't know how long I have laid here. I know that it's just a matter of time before I die, but I find myself smiling. I did it, I thought. I gave Katniss a chance to win. She has the bow now and with that she is more than an equal to any Career out there. I just hope she realizes that my joining with the Career pack was a ruse...a trick to keep them away from her long enough for her to put together some kind of plan, and to arm herself. I smile to myself again and think, it worked. I gave them just enough to keep trusting me, but not enough to put her in danger.

Another stab of pain lances through my arm and neck. Arm and neck? Oh yeah, where I took a couple of tracker jacker stings. I'm just thankful that I wasn't really asleep when Katniss dropped that nest on us. I shiver slightly as I think of what would have happened if I had been sleeping. I would have ended up like Glimmer, or...what was her name again? The District Four girl? Kelsey? No, Chelsea. No matter, they were closest to the nest when it exploded after hitting the ground. Neither one really had a chance. I guess I was lucky that I only took a few stings as the rest of us took off blindly towards the lake. Still, just a few stings was enough to give me some pretty vivid hallucinations, not to mention totally messing up my perception of reality. It took everything I had to stumble back to the tree to find Katniss struggling to relieve Glimmer of the bow and arrows that were still clutched in her lifeless hands. Did Katniss realize it was me that came back to warn her?

I look up at the sky and wonder what she's doing...if she's safe. I only wish I knew for sure that she knows I didn't betray her...that I am doing exactly what I had set out to do from the very beginning. There can be only one Victor, and I fervently hope that it's her. She is tough, and smart, and deserves to live. Besides, her sister and mother need her. No one needs me. How will I ever know if she realized that I truly did sacrifice myself for her? I haven't seen anyone else for days, except maybe the little District Eleven girl, Rue, hiding in the tree line...and even then I'm not sure if that was real or a hallucination. Maybe, I think, maybe if I see Rue again I can get her to come talk to me so I can give her a message for Katniss, to let Katniss know that I truly -

I jerk a little at the sound of two cannons going off, one after the other. My heart leaps into my throat. Two more Tributes dead. I hope with all my heart that Katniss is still alive. There was another sound earlier...like a cannon, only much, much louder. I'm not sure what it was, but I have a feeling that Katniss had something to do with it.

Another spasm of pain seizes me and a groan aloud. I let out a deep breath and close my eyes. Tired...so tired. I just need to sleep...

I jerk awake as a voice is making some sort of announcement. It's dark now. How long was I out? I try to concentrate on the words. Claudius Templesmith talking...something about a rule change. What? What's he talking about? This is The Hunger Games. There aren't any rules. But still...I listen carefully. He's saying...he's saying that if the last two tributes left alive are from the same district, then both will be declared the winner.

My muddied brain tries to make sense of this...then it hits me. That announcement was for Katniss and myself. Haymitch certainly had something to do with it. I smile a little bit as I realize that now there's a chance that we BOTH can go home.

For the first time since the Reapings, I allow myself to feel something that I had stopped feeling the second Effie called my name.

Hope.


	12. THE CAVE

**THE CAVE**

I'm sound asleep when I feel a hand gently shaking my shoulder. I hear Katniss say, as if she's speaking from far away, "Peeta, we've got to go now."

I try to shake the cobwebs in my brain. Dimly I'm aware that my wounded leg is throbbing with dull pain. "Go? Go where?" I ask. Hopefully...yes...maybe she's taking me home.

"Away from here. Downstream maybe. Somewhere we can hide you till you're stronger," she says. Inwardly I laugh. Doesn't she know I'm dead already? Still, I say nothing as she helps me dress, leaving my feet bare. Katniss explains it's so I can walk in water. If you had found me a day later, I think, I would be walking on water. She helps me to my feet and I almost collapse from the incredible pain the second I put the slightest amount of weight on my bad leg.

"Come on. You can do this," Katniss says gently, but firmly. Even with her supporting me I can barely move. I can feel the tortured muscles in my bad leg twitching with spasms with every step. Finally I can go no further. I put my arms out and sink down in a barely controlled collapse. All I can think of is, if we're jumped right now we're both dead. I feel Katniss push my head between my legs and dimly can feel her hand patting my back. My breathing is ragged and I feel like I'm about to throw up.

Finally, Katniss hauls me to my feet and points towards what looks to be a cave slightly above the stream. I steel myself for another round of torture as she steers me towards the entrance. Somehow she manages to guide me into the cave where she sits me down with my back to the wall. I'm light headed and shivering uncontrollably. I want to scream at her to RUN! Leave me! I'm dead already! But I don't have the energy for even that.

I watch her through pain dulled eyes as she gathers up pine needles and spreads them over the floor of the cave, the maneuvers me into her sleeping bag. She makes me take some pills and drink some water but I feel my stomach rebel at even that. I turn my head away when she tries to feed me some fruit.

She's trying to hide the cave entrance now, without any luck. I can see her frustration build until she finally tears apart the crude blind.

"Katniss," I croak weakly. She walks over to me, sits down, and brushes the hair from my eyes. "Thanks for finding me," is all I can think of saying.

"You would have found me if you could," she says softly. I can see a new look in her eyes. Fear. That could mean only one thing.

"Yes," I reply, then, "Look, if I don't make it back-"

"Don't talk like that," she says firmly, "I didn't drain all that pus for nothing."

"I know," I say, "But just in case I don't-"

"No, Peeta. I don't even want to discuss it," she says as she places her fingers on my lips. I wish she would stop interrupting me. I want to tell her how much I love her. Not in front of a live audience. Just her and I in this cave. I try one more time.

"But I-" is as far as I get before she shocks me by leaning in close and kissing me. I'm so startled I almost don't kiss her back. She breaks off the kiss and I feel her pulling the sleeping bag up around me.

"You're not going to die. I forbid it. All right?" She says sternly.

All I can manage to say is, "All right." Katniss steps out of the cave and I allow myself a small smile. Katniss kissed me! I feel myself dozing off, my mind focusing hard on how her lips felt against mine.

"Peeta," I hear her say in a teasing, sing-song sort of voice. So unlike the Katniss that I'm used to. I realize that she's actually trying to sound girlish. I keep my eyes closed until I feel her kissing me again. I pretend to be startled by her kiss and open my eyes. I look up at her with a loving smile on my face.

Katniss holds up a small pot. She smiles and says, "Peeta, look what Haymitch has sent you."

If I'm dead, this must be heaven.


End file.
